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??? Dunno What's Going On
April 7, 2016 Thursday 8:32 PM [school bell rang two minutes ago]
Before I say the following, I'm just going to take a moment to acknowledge the fact that this week has been really, really good. Actually, the past month has been pretty okay. I can only remember good things, and I feel very accomplished. I'm going to be sad when track season ends.
I am ridiculous.
Because I don't feel stressed about school even though I should. I have the SAT on the day of prom (about a week into May) and the APUSH test a day before that and I have like five chapters to read before then, plus all the studying I have to do and – yeah, well. It's too much to think about and it's a lot that I'm not sure I can get done but I'm not worried at all.
I'm just... not stressed. Or at least I believe that's the truth.
But then things like THIS happen and I'm wondering if maybe I should talk to someone.????
'Cause, like, I came downstairs this morning at pretty much exactly eight o' clock and my dad yelled at me because eight is pretty late (school starts at eight thirty and Lily picks me up around ten past eight) and yeah, okay, basically I started crying.
It was stupid.
My dad said sorry, that he was frustrated about something else (the new dishwasher, which he was trying to install).
I said, "Why'd you have to take it out on me then?!" (I am aware that I do the same thing, though.)
"Because we don't have a dog."
Oh, ha-ha. Funny, dad.
THen my mom came downstairs, asked what happened, I told her (I sounded like a toddler and I was still pretty pissed that my dad had shouted at me for no real reason??
But my dad got defensive and suddenly he was yelling at me again and it was like that whole apology got retracted or something. So I cried harder wich fucking sucked.
In my mind, I was thinking, "Fuuuuuuck now my nose is gonna be rosy and just fuccccckkkkk." My brain felt detached from it all, as it does most of the time, but my body was all burning in anger and frustration – I heard that can give you cancer, being angry without an outlet.
(Just now he came up to me and asked if I was angry. I said "mm hmm." He said, "I TOLD you I was angry at the dishwasher."
Just??!?! Is that a valid excuse?! Should I be forgiving him right now?!?!? Ugh, I don't want to. I'm still mad, I need to wait for it to wear off.)
So yeah... I cried some more and my momma hugged me and but I have no idea why I was so upset. There were tears streaming down my face, man. I tried to stop, but I couldn't. It actually kind of felt like I was puking from my eye sockets. Not that I was nauseas. No, I just mean that waves of intense frustration would keep hitting me, pushing out the tears, right? Kind of like waves of nausea with puke. It was about as pleasant, too.
I'm thinking this frustration is like.. displaced or something. Like maybe it should be directed at my school work. But instead, somehow...? What?
Luckily I have an appointment with Pat today so yayyyyy. I can talk about my feelings I guess.
I'm not in school because I am dumb and didn't want people asking me why I was crying. Because you can definitely tell that I was crying. People interrogating me would just make me cry more. So yeah. I haven't cried in school since almost a year ago on like.. April 13 or 14.
Don't ask why I remember that. But I know I cried in the girl's bathroom during ninth period when my art teacher asked me a sensitive question. I was lucky I had no friends in that class. I could get away with just sitting in a corner by myself while the evidence faded. Except Adrian. He came over and started talking to me. Talking at me, actually, haha, but it was helpful. I didn't want to talk. But listening was a really good distraction.
I'm really cold. Okay bye. I'm going to read some of my APUSH text book before heading to school. I'm missing APUSH right now but hopefully Washington will forgive me... Seriously, I try my hardest not to be late and stuff, but Washington – if he saw my face – would've called me out in front of the whole class. Would've said, "What's wrong?!?!?!?!"
Which is nice and all, but I mean. I don't want the attention of twenty other kids okay.
I know this would happen because over the weekend, a girl's grandpa died and she was crying a little in the beginning of class on Monday but trying not to show it... and Washington – you guessed it – called her out. She was allowed to leave class to calm down, though. I wouldn't wanna have to do that, just because I dislike the idea of having to go back into the classroom.
Maybe I can learn about other people today. I need that.
I'm still in a good mood overall.
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